


Let Me Count the Ways

by LilKrissMuffet



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood and Gore, Bruises, Choking, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Humiliation, Master/Pet, Murder, Obsession, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Warning: Strade (Boyfriend to Death)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29507565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilKrissMuffet/pseuds/LilKrissMuffet
Summary: A snapshot of an intimate moment between Strade and one of his most prized posessions.
Relationships: Protagonist/Strade (Boyfriend to Death), Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader, Strade (BTD/TNR)/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Let Me Count the Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing crazy here, my dudes. Was just in the mood for some good ol'-fashioned smut. I like to come up with gross dirty-talk for Strade and end up loving it so much that I just have to write little ficlets around certain lines of dialogue.
> 
> Non-con as usual because, duh, it be Strade.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Even if her very life depended on it, Y/N simply couldn't explain why she remained so hopelessly attracted to the absolute monster stretched out on top of her, hips rutting against her own like a crazed animal in heat. His large, strong hands cupped and squeezed her breasts aggressively, twisting her stiffened nipples between his thumb and forefinger and making her yelp in pain and discomfort. A lascivious grin crept across his face at the lovely noises as he bent closer, his five-o'-clock shadow scratching against her cheek in an affectionate nuzzle. He hummed with approval, low and deep as he turned his head to run his hot, slimy tongue up from jaw to cheekbone, just barely stopping before reaching one wide open, fearful eye. His heavy breath positively reeked of stale beer and cigar smoke, his entire body, burly though well-muscled, glistening with a fine layer of musky sweat...and yet. She had never wanted anything more in her entire life than she wanted this psychotic brute of a man to drill her into the mattress until she could no longer see straight.

Every minute of every hour of every day that Y/N whiled away in his immaculate showroom of a suburban home, she silently willed him to stay by her side, touching her all over with those calloused, working man's fingers or regaling her with endless tales from his long list of previous conquests. As much as his frankly overbearing presence tended to fill her with a suffocating sense of dread and unease, the fact was that she simply adored everything about her captor, known only by one enigmatic title: _Strade_. Even the sound of it was enough to make her toes subtly curl inwards and her teeth itch, whether spoken shyly at his elbow when she dared to ask him a question or forcibly torn from her lungs in a frantic, screaming plea to stop.

No. Don't stop. 

_More_.

The way he openly stared at her with his fiercely beautiful eyes the color of a lit match glowing in the shadows, or a perfectly toasted campfire marshmallow, depending on his unpredictable moods. She even loved his scruffy, hazelnut brown hair, how it framed his unbearably handsome facial features. The way the tip of one scraggly curl barely brushed the mysterious scar on the left side of his chin was so endearing it made her heart ache with need. 

His cheery, overly excitable nature reminded her somewhat of a puppy who had yet to be housebroken, a bit too curious about the world (and the people) around him for his own good. The uncannily apt metaphor extended to include times like these, and they were quite frequent, when Strade would work himself up to the point that he could hardly control himself, panting and growling like a rabid wolf as he greedily devoured her like the easy prey she always was to him and always would be. Weak, obedient, and as meekly submissive as a little girl in time-out. 

Just the way he liked her. 

"So, _liebe..._ you're a bit...quiet tonight, _ja?_ Usually by now, you're practically _begging_ for it~" 

He tongued the side of her neck sloppily, exhaling those provocative words against her skin at the same time his hand trailed down her stomach between her invitingly spread thighs, hastily pulling her flimsy underthings aside to position himself at her dripping entrance. The head of his girthy, throbbing length worried open her soft folds like the petals of a delicate flower, mixing the sticky precum beading from his tip with her own hot slick as he prepared to unceremoniously stuff himself inside her tight cunt for the second time today.

The first had been live-streamed on the dark web just after lunchtime, with Strade taking her from behind so roughly that her palms and badly bruised knees were slipping and sliding in the pool of blood spreading out from the freshly mutilated corpse sprawled inches away from her mortified face. It had been quick and dirty, just mere minutes before he came with a juddering sigh all over her scarred-up back. No time for intimacy, just a perfunctory measure for satiating the bloodthirsty masses on the other side of that camera lens. 

Still, she had gladly savored his mutterings of "good girl" and "did so well" as he briefly kissed her shoulder before yanking her exhausted, aching body back to unsteady feet and making her wave goodbye to their invisible audience. Strade told her they really liked her. Liked to see her pretty face and perky tits covered in fresh gore, hair a matted mess and cheeks flushed red like the blood coating his leather gloves. And that kind of praise undeniably put her on Cloud 9. She would have done almost anything to please him, to give him a reason to lavish her with the attention she so badly craved.

However, nothing could quite compare to nights like this. When she earned the rare privilege of playing the role of his lover instead of his reluctant stagehand, entangled in his powerful arms and the silky, sweat-dampened sheets of his bed while he growled sweet German nothings into her ear. 

"Hahh... _Du gehörst mir, mein haustier._ Your body is all mine to use however I please and there is _nothing_ you can do about it. I'll bet you love that, you filthy little _fraulein._..don't you?" 

And oh, this was heaven if there ever was one. She knew she could die happy beneath him so long as he first whispered: _"...Liebling..."_ against her slightly parted lips, inhaling her final breath like a sweet perfume while he ultimately stole her life the way he had so greedily stolen her heart what felt like so long ago. Had it been the coffee shop or the nonfiction section at the town library?

It certainly didn't matter anymore. 

As Strade finally sheathed his fat, veiny cock within her delectably heated core, a satisfied groan rumbled up from his chest, harmonizing with her higher-pitched gasp of pure pleasure. 

_Fuck--Why do I love this smarmy bastard so damn MUCH?,_ she mused to herself, wincing as he seized both of her wrists in one hand and wrenched them up over her head, smacking her knuckles painfully against the hardwood headboard. He rolled his hips back, sliding every one of his eight, thick inches along her clingy inner walls in maddening slow motion. Chewing her lower lip in anticipation, she arched her spine, hissing through her teeth as he shoved himself all the way back in with such alarming force she could almost hear her pelvic bones creaking from the sheer impact. 

She cried at the bedroom ceiling, both from the agony of effectively being torn in half and the dizzying waves of electricity that came from him slamming against her innermost sweet spots. As much as he often pretended not to care about whether or not she got off, there was no doubt that Strade knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"Mmmnn~ Go ahead…be as loud as you want, _mein schatz._ You're so cute when you scream for me..." 

He then surprised her by leaning down and punctuating this statement with an almost tender kiss...though it proved to be a predictably short-lived treat. The hand that wasn't binding her wrists together found its way around the slender column of her neck, just above the ungainly electric collar she was always required to wear, constricting her windpipe in its cruel grip. She struggled to suck in a breath, choking and sputtering as his lazy smile suddenly turned nasty. Malicious.

"In fact...I'd love to hear just how bad you want this. So what's my name, _du schlampe?_...hm? SAY IT."

Y/N hesitated for a second, trying to focus on gathering up her scatter-brained thoughts instead of the massive intrusion currently lingering on the threshold of her wet, wanting pussy, clenching around nothing. 

"S-Strade... _Please!_ I need--", she whimpered, trying to lift her hips up and into his touch. In her desperation, the sound of his name leaving her lips was a perfectly-honed blade, gliding smoothly through raw flesh as easily as a stick of butter. She was so hungry for him, it physically hurt each time he pushed forward slightly only to draw back out again. Taunting her.

"Need...? Hah! Well, that's different! You really are quite the little _Hure,_ aren't ya? Admit it, Y/N...you need to be _filled_ and _fucked_ just as much as you need food and water!", he chuckled darkly, licking his lips at the shame coloring her blushing cheeks. Clearly enjoying this.

He then erupted in a peal of boisterous, straight-up laughter at his own witty observation, half-lidded eyes narrowing to a hard glare when she attempted to accompany him with her own set of nervous giggles. Apparently, this wasn't intended as a joke at all.

_"Ja,_ that's right...Tell me you can't live without this cock buried inside you. That you would DIE without it! I wanna hear it straight from your dirty whore-mouth.", he spat sharply into her ear, dragging out the last part in a humiliating fashion. She hated how right he was.

Head tilting expectantly in waiting for an answer, Strade firmly caressed her inner thigh with his thumb, rocking back and forth ever so slightly against her without threat of penetration. She swallowed thickly, stifling a frustrated moan as she prepared her next words. 

"Yes, I...c-can't live...without...without your--GAHHH!!"

Shrieking in hurt surprise at a sudden sharp stinging between her legs, she lifted her head up off of the pillows just enough to catch Strade's palm hovering above her pelvis, a sickening grin curling his lip on one side. Just now...had he actually slapped her... _there?_

"Ah-ah!~ Come on, _schatzi_. For someone so used to being filmed, you're not a very convincing actress…", he chided her, shaking his head.

Tears began to sting the corners of her eyes, trembling anxiously at the deadly-soft menace in his tone. He raised an eyebrow at her pathetic squeaking noises when he pressed a single fingertip to her aching clit, soothing the over-sensitive bundle of nerves with feathery light strokes and saccharine words he most likely didn't really mean.

"Ohh...that's better, _meine liebe._ I didn't mean to hurt ya, y'know! It's just that...whenever you cry, you look so...so..."

Strade never finished that sentence. As soon as Y/N was lulled into complacency with his low, intimate growl at her neck and skilled fingers elsewhere, he abruptly shattered the brief interlude of peace by scooping her slight figure into his arms and bringing her up with him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Before she could so much as raise a hand in protest, Strade had twisted her all the way around to face away from him, pinning her back against his sweaty chest and spreading her legs wide across his lap. 

"Strade, wha--what are you--"

She heard him spit messily into his hand behind her and then, most horrifyingly, felt the uncomfortable sensation of something hard and... _big._ Oh god, way too big for the opening it was trying to fit into, but she supposed it shouldn't have come as that much of a shock, after all. It was only a matter of time before Strade would force himself into a certain other orifice of hers, but at least he had the courtesy not to go in _totally_ dry.

Still, she couldn't help letting loose a raw screech of pain as her virgin hole was skewered on his rock-hard shaft. She swore she could feel his cock in her fucking _guts_ and it had her positively sobbing for mercy that would never come.

"N-no...It...It hurts...nnghh!!...so much…", Y/N whined, hissing in a strained breath as he began to bounce her ass up and down in a steady but quickening rhythm, hands cupping the backs of her knees and cursing raggedly under his breath.

"Oh hushhh, little one~ Ah-hhh!❤ _Du magst es, wenn es weh tut...",_ he purred, lips grazing the shell of her ear before harshly digging his sharp teeth into the soft cartilage. 

_"Ficken..._ Hah...Ah, _liebling..._ I take it you have never let a man... _mmm~_...do _this_ to you before, hm?"

Even as she clung onto his strong biceps for dear life while he ravaged her insides from below, she managed to sneak a hand down south in order to pick up where he had left off, swirling two fingers dipped in her own plentiful juices around her needy clit. It didn't take long for those tears to dry on their own.

"Strade...I-I...there are a lot of things I have never let _anyone_ do...be...before…Shi-hitt!", she exclaimed breathlessly as the burning coil in her lower belly began to wind tighter and tighter. She refused to believe that something she had once been so utterly repulsed by could possibly feel this _good._

Responding in kind by thrusting into her even more viciously, he slammed her down onto his cock with ever-increasing fervor, grunting and growling like a literal demon from the exertion as well as his own swiftly approaching climax. His dirty fingernails left red, crescent-shaped marks on the undersides of her thighs as he hooked them deep into her pliant flesh and the ringed shape of his teeth imprinted itself into the curve of her shoulder, nearly drawing blood.

"Oh-ho-ho...then you should be...hhh...grateful that your very first time was with me, _ja?_ Nobody can, ah.. _.fuck_ you like I can, and...nnn...nobody ever will...because why...?"

Both of them knew the answer to that particular question but neither ever seemed to get sick of hearing it. It was no doubt a crucial component to the strange thread that kept their depraved relationship from falling apart at the poorly-stitched seams. 

"Cause I...I'm y-yours!", she cried aloud, her voice growing high and thin as she struggled to form thoughts coherent enough to properly reply to him with.

"Mmm...hmhm~ That's...ahh...what I like to hear. Now, cum for me... _pet."_

By the urgency in his command, he could not be far behind. The tell-tale unstable quaver in his voice gave away how close he was to tipping over the edge. She could feel his cock pulsating inside of her, tightening and seizing up at the precipice of sweet release. 

Y/N, of course, had no other choice but to obey. After all, she was little more than property and Strade was her owner. Her _master._

She let go. He let go. The only thing either of them could possibly hold onto was each other as they melted together into one.

At last, the two of them collapsed in exhaustion, splaying out across the sheets in a tangle of sweaty limbs and flushed skin. His mouth nestled against the nape of her neck; slow, moist kisses lining down her spine as his arms encircled her ribcage. Oddly content despite the persistent thrumming in her nether regions, she let slip a few quiet words that always gave him pause in any context, smirking into her pillow when he noticeably tensed up beside her. His hot seed trickled down the backs of her thighs and her wrists sang with the darkening bruises wrapping around them like handcuffs, but she couldn't help but bask in the primal afterglow of being so violently claimed and marked by a predator who had deemed her worthy of the hunt. 

"...Love you...Stra…"

After a moment or two of mildly confused contemplation his eyelids fell closed, feeling her heartbeat gradually relax as she drifted off to sleep. He smiled then, lapping at her salty skin with his warm tongue. Just listening to her breathe in the darkness. She tasted almost exactly how taking a life for the first time had _felt_ to him.

Delicious. Rare and radiant. A flavor he could never forget, no matter how many others like her would inevitably come afterwards. One day he might push this pretty new toy too far, too deep. She would break beyond repair by his destructive hand and thus, outlive her usefulness. But not quite yet. This one still had some fire left in her.

His first had struggled and squealed like a frightened rabbit, he fondly recalled. In the backseat of his run-down two door sedan. Brand new driver's license tucked in his wallet and some bubbly pop-rock song crackling static from the barely functional stereo speakers. Afterwards, he had buried the relatively bloodless kill in the forest, ten feet below the cold ground and many more miles from the house he had kindly offered to drop them off at that evening before squeezing every last drop of light out of their eyes. Back in those days, he was still unsure of himself, what he was capable of, which necessitated the need to show some self-restraint. He remembered resisting the urge to use the screwdriver he kept in the glovebox or the plastic ice-scraper in the trunk, the mud caked under his nails as well as the gentle summer rain cooling him off as he hiked back through the trees towards his car. 

But most of all, it was the way they had changed right in front of him that had him wondering how long he would have to wait until the next one. Transformed into something completely unrecognizable but still so alive and _real,_ clawing at his forearms and soundlessly mouthing their last words as he crushed their larynx with his own two hands. Surely, it had been true love at first sight...if that was what love even _was,_ of course. Mostly, it had just gotten him hard.

Nevertheless, he decided it could be. Maybe _she_ could be that for him. His Y/N.

Strade pressed himself further up against her back, tightening his hold on her fragile form and mumbling tiredly into her disheveled hair. God, she even _smelled_ like the dawning terror in the eyes of someone who had suddenly realized they were about to die. 

Perfect. 

_"Ich weiss, schön. Dich auch. <3"_

**Author's Note:**

> German Translation Key
> 
> Liebe - love, dear
> 
> Du gehörst mir, mein haustier. - You belong to me, my pet.
> 
> Fraulein - an outdated term for a young, unmarried woman, usually considered rude
> 
> Liebling - darling, favorite
> 
> Mein schatz - my treasure
> 
> Du schlampe - you slut
> 
> Hure - whore
> 
> Schatzi - sweetheart
> 
> Meine liebe - my love/my dear
> 
> Du magst es, wenn es weh tut. - You like when it hurts.
> 
> Ficken - Fuck
> 
> Ich weiss, schön. - I know, beautiful.
> 
> Dich auch. - You too.


End file.
